Monday, August 3, 2009

A Man Called John

I have gotten out of the habit of the daily blog. I just takes up so much time to write, be witty, edit, and post. I think that it is okay though, this way you are not subjected to every tiny detail of my life. With longer between posts, you are just subjected to most of them.

Friday I joined the YSA for a temple trip to baptisms for the dead. I have not been in the baptistery since I did baptisms more than ten years ago. I did them once in the Salt Lake Temple after I did the work for as much family as I had records for. After that I never did them, and then I was endowed. The last time I went with the YSA for a baptism trip, there were too many endowed girls and I got shunted off to do iniatories.

That night, dressed in all white, I sat among those dressed for the waters, the Elders who were performing the rites, temple workers, and other members who were all there united in one purpose. Unity is a concept we talk about in church, but it is hard to really understand until you are living the concept. My heart was so full, the spirit so strong in my breast that all the tension my family left me with melted away. This was where I wanted to be. A week of railing on my decision to get married in the temple was not longer an issue. I knew that this temple, this place, the holiness that was here was all I wanted. Feeling that feeling, why would I want anything else. The temple is my number one priority, everything else has to fall in line behind it. There is nothing I could not leave behind or give up for it.

On the drive home, Frankie and I had another one of those soul touching talks. I am not sure what endows him with the ability to cut right to the heart of things, but I cherish the time we get to talk. He is not afraid to tell me things that I may not want to hear, but still do it in a way that I will listen. The only other person in my life that can do that is Red. That night he told me that it may be time for me to move on. Not what I want to hear, but I promised him I would pray about it.

Sunday I had a work conference which made it impossible for me to go to my ward. I was, however, able to make it to the YSA. I could tell the difference as soon as I walked in. It was the same feeling that buried itself inside my chest at the temple. All my searching to be filled and to get enough, is slaked here. I was so full sitting there. Just listening to the lesson, feeling the spirit, looking around at all the familiar faces of those who know my names and care about my welfare warmed the cockles of my heart. Why is it that we do not know what we have until it is gone? Why cannot I not bask in it now? I want to live inside that warm glow; I am drawn to that light that I can so easily find there.

Update on The Aggie...he is finishing up his degree and moving on Wednesday. This I knew, but what I did not know was that he is moving to Austin! How fortuitous. We texted back and forth on Saturday while I was getting ready for a wedding and it came up. I assumed when he said he was moving that he meant he was moving somewhere in the same town. After our texting, he called and we chatted for a bit. Before we hung up, he said that he would like to do something when he gets in town. Now I just have to wait. I am not good at waiting, but Red and The Peacemaker assure me that it can be done.

Tonight I finally got to teach my lesson on John the Baptist, and it was abysmal. After weeks, literally weeks, of preparation, I finally felt like I had a handle on the material and was ready to teach. The lesson started and I had not even gone through the first section and I could already see the boredom on their faces. Instantly I began to get nervous, I started sweating, and questioning all that I had prepped. This was a long lesson, how was I going to keep them interested? I was having a hard time getting them to participate, which made me even more nervous. I started impromptu editing, which then made me feel like it was not as rich as I intended. Now that I am all flustered, came the nail in my coffin. Someone has a question, she raises her hand and instead of asking me, she asks Frankie. I was crushed. I was the one teaching the lesson, but I was not respected for what I had prepared. This is exactly why I put so much effort into my prep, and yet I still was only there to lead the discussion, not to teach anyone. I feel dejected and don't quite know how to get over that feeling.

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